TAMING HOLLYWOOD'S BADDEST BO- Max Monroe Page 0,59
Here in Alaska, the distance to my house and the overwhelming need to live anonymously have been protection enough.
But with her, I did it anyway.
Fucking hell, what is happening to me?
Billie Harris is growing on me in a way that has my brain thinking all sorts of crazy shit. Twisty, winding possibilities of making a change, going back to something I thought I’d left behind—putting myself in a situation where I might make all the same mistakes again.
Fucking hell.
Before my mind can turn into an amusement park of thoughts I’d rather not contemplate, I force my focus to the simple task of carefully sliding out of bed without waking her up.
Once my feet hit the floor and she doesn’t stir in her sleep, I slip on a pair of sweat pants and a hoodie, and I head downstairs to the kitchen.
Lou is already there, sitting at the table with a fresh cup of coffee and reading a book.
“Mornin’,” he says and nods his head in greeting.
“Morning,” I head toward the coffeepot, and Bailey meets me by the counter, his tail wagging back and forth. I pat his side a few times and grin down at him.
“Where’s Billie?” Lou asks, and I look up to meet his eyes.
“Still sleeping.” I pour myself a fresh cup of coffee and stir in some sugar and cream. “Figure I’d let her rest a little longer before we head back.”
A knowing smirk appears on his lips, and I tilt my head to the side.
“What’s that look for?”
That smirk of his grows. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” I retort and sit across from him at the table. “You’ve got a look. You know you’ve got a look, so you might as well spit it out.”
Lou chuckles and sets his book facedown on the table. “Did you read the screenplay?”
“You’re smirking about that damn screenplay?”
“Of course not.” He shakes his head. “I’m smirking because I think…actually, I know that you’re starting to really like this girl. If Shirley were still alive, she’d die all over again from plain excitement.”
I roll my eyes. “She definitely spent a lot of time gabbing about me settling down.”
Lou nods. “She just wanted you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
He raises a pointed brow. “You sure about that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be happy?” I challenge. “All that Hollywood money I made has earned me the ability to live life for myself. Make my own decisions. Choose what’s best for me. Enjoy the simple life that living out here provides. What’s not to be happy about?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because it gets to be a pretty lonely life if you don’t have anyone to share it with.”
“I don’t think I’m the type of person who needs that, Lou.”
“And I think you’re underestimating what you need and what you deserve.”
I stare at him, unsure of what to say.
I’ve been living out here for eight years, doing my own thing, living my own fucking life.
I’m comfortable.
And comfortable is happy…right?
The fact that you can’t immediately say yes to that question is a red fucking flag, dude.
“Look,” Lou adds after he takes a sip of coffee. “All I’m hoping is that you’ll really think about why you let that pretty girl up there come with you on this trip. And I want you to think about how she really makes you feel.”
I stare at him as he shrugs.
“You’re different with her around. Lighter. Playful. It’s a side of Luca my Shirley would’ve loved to have seen instead of a grumbly bastard. And, truthfully, it’s a side that gives me hope for you,” he says quietly. “I’m not always going to be around, and I’d hate for you to stay locked up in your wilderness tower and never actually live your life. I knew you needed the move eight years ago. I knew you needed to get away from it all, but I think you’re reaching a point in your life where you’re ready to get back out there and start living again. Really fucking living.”
I shake my head. “I think you’re taking it all a little too far. Just because I’m okay being around one pretty pain in the ass for a few days doesn’t mean I’m ready to be back out there with the rest of them,” I mutter, and Lou stands up with his now-empty cup of coffee and pats me on the back.
“Say what you want, Lucky. Everything on your face says the rest of it for you.” I narrow my eyes, and he points to something I obviously